


forest fires in winter

by filesfolder



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Established Relationship, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan Is The Sun, M/M, Omega Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Smut, Vampire Mark Lee (NCT), Werewolf Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, atleast i Think it still counts, kind of, mark helps donghyuck through his heat, pwp but with plot just not fully written plot do you feel me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filesfolder/pseuds/filesfolder
Summary: Mark was immortal in the way he littered proof of himself across Donghyuck's body like a canvas. Donghyuck likes to tell him that they're not so different after all.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 13
Kudos: 178





	forest fires in winter

Mates of the soul, an old heritage that has more stories than proof, discussed and mused about more with feelings and instinct than anything concrete or absolute; all of it could surely be nothing but an old folks tale, though Mark thinks he could believe it if his inevitable was with the boy beneath him.

"Your dad is going to kill me." He says, breath turning into a ghost against Donghyuck's neck. The air is cold, he can feel it in the goosebumps across Donghyuck's naked skin as his hand travels the length up his calve, the slow glide to his thigh, basically unmoving by the time his fingers reach his hip. His fingers tap two beats into Donghyuck's skin as he presses more open mouth kisses along the column of his boy's neck.

Maybe his reluctance lies more with the philosophy than it's existence.

"Which one?" Donghyuck gasps out quietly as if he's afraid to disturb the air too much. His frame is slightly shaking, Mark can feel every movement vibrate in his hands and in his chest as Donghyuck struggles to stay afloat the more Mark tries to push him under the surface to bare witness to his creature. His eyes have been flickering their pale yellow for about an hour now and Mark has become no less mesmerized by the way Donghyuck just looks so far gone behind them meanwhile Mark feels as if they've never been closer. He watches them pulse and feels the way his own urge to do the same.

"The scary one." Mark says and dips down to catch Donghyuck's already swollen lips in another kiss that has more tongue than teeth this time—it's good in the way that this is a new side of Donghyuck that mark has never seen, and perhaps it's a little mean to take advantage of it like this, as if they have all the time in the world for Mark's hand to trace and retrace every line and curve and edge of Donghyuck's body. He works as if he's discovering it for the first time, even though Donghyuck has undressed it for him countless times over, even though he has done the same himself in their cold nights together, even though the first time Donghyuck had taken Mark's hands in his own and pressed them against himself as they traveled it together—as Donghyuck looked into Mark's eyes and promised nothing about Mark's love would hurt him.

His hands had been shaking then, despite every word of reassurance Donghyuck divulged into his scalp as their hands roamed, it was a body Mark had always seen as so fragile no matter how strong the mind that controlled it was, and that had always scared him the most. Donghyuck was fragile, he could _break_ , and no matter how much he already was, Mark would be Damned if he would be the one to do so.

But they met when Donghyuck's body had already broken so many times, when every bone had already moved under his flesh and his muscles had stitched themselves back together to make him a body that was a little less fragile, a little more unbreakable—a body that could break apart Mark's own if he had really wanted to.

Now these facts it serve as the amount of confidence Mark needed to grip Donghyuck's hip a little harder as he pulled him closer so that Donghyuck's naked groin pressed against his clothed one. Donghyuck's body shuddered again with sensitivity, and Mark could guess as he kissed Donghyuck through the small whimpers he released as he rutted softly against him, repressed power even though he was at his weakest point in so many areas.

An omega in heat is something Mark had never experienced. 189 years is just so young to live as the dead, especially when you spend so much of it in hiding.

Mark thought he'd ran out of chances to see things that were truly extraordinary, but this boy was proof of more than just soulmates.

++

Donghyuck is the artist between the two of them, but sometimes he grabs Mark's hands with his own and cards their fingers together; sometimes he looks at Mark with eyes that would look like cold steel if Mark didn't know any better to know that these are just the eyes of a Donghyuck that's fighting the instinct of a conscious trained to fight against things that are unnaturally cold.

This time however, Donghyuck's eyes aren't cold—they're glowing a steady bright yellow, looking hot and alive, as if they're holding just as much heat as the rest of him as his body succumbs to his biology. He's looking into Mark's eyes, his pupils shaking as he searches him for something Mark's not sure his mate can find.

 _Eyes are the windows to the soul_ , and that is something he lost a long time a ago. Donghyuck would need to ask for anything he would want to know.

He lifts one of their joined hands, kisses the knuckles of his love, and hopes that the small things never stop being enough.

"What do i look like in your eyes?" His sunflower asks.

And oh... how pretty.

How absolutely pretty.

They don't have the time it would take for Mark to answer such a question the way he would want to; Donghyuck is far too hot, something he can see in the thin layer of sweat glistening across his skin, in the way the brown hair of his bangs stick to his forehead, in the way Donghyuck's chest softly pants up and his mouth hangs open just slightly as he waits for Mark's answer—he's just barely holding on to his main consciousness now. His eyes are brighter and his cheeks are flush from the heat unfurling from his center to spread into his entire being.

Mark could smell every bit of the sweetness as the blood runs hotter through Donghyuck's veins; he could feel the hunger thrumming under his own skin, the dryness in his throat that's making it hard to swallow.

Two different creatures, separate biology born into a conflict in which Mark would be lying if he said he didn't truly understand—Donghyuck's father would surely kill him, if he didn't love him so much—but his boy is enticing in ways that would be regarded as simply normal had he been born again the same way Donghyuck was every time he shifted; Mark supposes this means nothing more than further proof.

Soulmates were a werewolf thing, myth, ideology; two connecting parts of two consciousness that made a being whole. Mark's creature and Donghyuck's creatures only intimate bonding was that of mortal conflict, and where as Donghyuck's soul bared itself bright, witnessed in his pulse drumming at so many parts of his body, parts that Mark laid kisses to so many times, felt his heartbeat on his lips and smelled the warm blood in his veins that made Mark's vision black with so much more need than just primal hunger, Mark had none to offer.

And though he would never tell Donghyuck this, for so many many reasons, his empty body only felt whole and heavy with a physical presence and weight, as if he never lost the part of himself that was anchored to the earth anymore by more than just mass versus gravity; it was only when he was around _him_ —his soulmate, who was a born werewolf, and therefore could not feel Mark in the way that Mark felt him.

But that was okay. Mark had the time that Donghyuck did not, and he could spend eternity nursing the flames of their fire until Donghyuck would no longer shudder against the cold of his body; the same way Mark learned not to flinch when faced with the heat Donghyuck could use to end him in ways more permanent than condemned love.

They don't have to understand each other fully, don't have to know what thrums under their surfaces completely for them to be together, just like this.

Maybe they are true fire and ice, but at least they both burn anyway. _This_ is Mark's philosophy.

_'What do i look like in your eyes?'_

And this is Donghyuck's. He asks questions when the sting of being unsure gets to much. He's so hot, and he's struggling with the reigns of what he wants to do and what's trying to do, and maybe the question is more a distraction of his decent, but mark will join him on the ride, coaxing him through with the same encouragement and reassurance Donghyuck gives him so unabashedly.

He thinks too much to not have an answer, and so he multitasks.

Donghyuck is the artist between the two of them, but mark has taken notes—the canvas of Donghyuck's body is already bare, it's surface primed with wet kisses and the light sweat from anticipation for Mark's brush stroke touches. Sunflowers are the idea, Mark's always been inspired by how much Donghyuck's likeness mimics the sun; one in full bloom, Mark's personal little piece of the sun.

"You look like a phenomenon, my love," Mark blinks and the world shifts brightness levels focused on Donghyuck's golden skin that looks so lovely against the cream colored sheets of their temporary bed. "How did I get so lucky to witness you?"

His hands lifts Donghyuck's until they're pressed into the pillow above the omega's head. He takes his own out of Donghyuck's grip to transfer both of Donghyuck's wrists into one of his palms as he puts a small amount of pressure, using repressed strength to tell Donghyuck to keep them there. He is staring at Mark blankly, the only tell tale sign that his body is reacting is in the way his breathing is uneven as it pushes irregular stutters into Mark's still torso.

His eyes are such a bright yellow, a sight so truly brilliant that Mark can't tear his eyes away from even as the fingers of his free hand draw a line from Donghyuck's collarbone to his nipple, traveling down down down until his finger tips hit the thin flesh of where his hip meets his thigh. He taps two beats into the skin.

"You look rare," Mark could feel Donghyuck's pulse from the wrists in his hand and in the skin under his fingertips. He feels with every passing second the world move slower around them. There's no movement outside, the forest quiet like it's taken the physical form of Mark's body and felt his need to envelop Donghyuck in as much of him as possible. It's cold, so Mark wraps a hand around Donghyuck's length to get him as used to it as he can as quickly as he can.

This makes their eye-contact break—the tension snapping like it's been cut by sharp sheers and Mark feels the bounce back more intently than he thought he would; but as he watches the way Donghyuck's body arch as much as it can in the limited space, his throat producing a high whine, his wrists pulling against the bind of Mark's hand as he tries to escape the cold on one of his most sensitive part; it's watching this, that Mark thinks there are far better forms of tension that comes with Donghyuck's nature and his own melding for the first time so purely.

"Y-you're _colder_ , Mark," Donghyuck gasps, and fuck, it's such a beautiful sound. It sounds as if it was pushed out from him, as if he was forced breathless and shocked, making his body and mind one.

Mark watches as Donghyuck calms and he strokes his hand once, then twice just to watch the way his mate's eyes squeeze shut tightly. His lithe frame shakes like he's shuddering off a layer of snow before he relaxes into the mattress. Mark could see it, the way his lips pinch together in a thin line, the way his brows furrow, his hips moving forward and away at the same time as he tries to ride the slow rhythm of Mark's grip on his already lightly weeping cock. His mouth hangs open as he pants, "Or maybe I'm j-just hotter..."

Sometimes Donghyuck looks just a little left to unreal, Mark thinks. Especially under the yellow lights of Donghyuck's family cabin as they swing above them from low hanging chandeliers. Johnny could be the one to kill him, Mark supposed it wouldn't be too far fetched if he couldn't control himself; love be damned as his eyes pulse behind his quickly shut eyelids.

++

"Mark?" Donghyuck's voice is gentle and colored blue, like the mist outside the windows above their bed. Mark has never felt _need_ like this, he wants to die all over again just to feel the way he did when Donghyuck saved him from that hell the first time.

This is as far from hell as he's ever been, but what a perfectly curated liminal space. A raw wound with white curtains lining the walls, plastic tarps on the floor, the bed they're laid on underneath large windows covering the expanse of the large wall towering above them that reminds Mark of just exactly who he's in love with. How much of a taboo they're committing that far goes past their natures.

Mark opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings, putting shape and form to the objects he's surrounded by as he confirms their shadows. Slowly, he puts himself back into a space in which Donghyuck occupies and in which he can control himself as the boy under him gives himself over so completely.

"Does it hurt?" He asks instead of thinking too much about the way icecaps move underneath his skin like the bergs that are large and frightening and hidden in the dark under the surface of freezing water. The fire will keep them at bay; surely Donghyuck is enough to quell the worst parts of his urges. "Does the heat hurt?"

Donghyuck is looking at him again, but instead of the faraway look even as Mark grounds himself in the physical tangibility of the body in his hands, Donghyuck is looking directly at him and it shocks mark enough that the darkness sinks a little further within him.

"Yes." Donghyuck says, voice stale in the air. Mark looks at the fog between them, hand still holding Donghyuck's still and pliant wrists. "It hurts, so you have to take care of me."

++

Y _ou look like like gold, every type of it, in the sunlight._

"I want you to tell me more." Comes Donghyuck's next request, with his wrists now free and his fingers trying to mimic the same lines Mark traced on his chest onto the vampire's own skin. "How do you see me?"

Mark is trying to focus—is trying to blink back black and heaviness that settles behind his eyes and in his teeth. He is trying to focus his strength, and how deeply they push into the molten heat of Donghyuck's entrance.

_'You don't have to prep me, you know, hyung... I'm ready for you.'_

_'Let me enjoy it, love.'_

Fingers like feathers glide across on his forehead and down the bridge of his nose, and he watches Donghyuck's face through it all. His boy outlines a bridge and a river below it that carries freezing water along it's current, smiling as if he can really see the icy waters rush along he planes of Mark's face. Mark wouldn't doubt that he could see his work before him as if it were real. His boy had a talent for seeing things even Mark couldn't fully comprehend. A gift, in many forms.

Mark himself had drawn a deep ravine between a snowcapped mountain. Their differences weren't that great, he supposed.

"You look cut from marble, darling, you're art rediscovered."

_You look like those very rays themselves, streaming down and shimmering onto me; a reminder that there's no such thing as eclipses by themselves_

++

Mark whispers words across his mate's skin and his cold hands freeze them over the surface just in case Donghyuck ever needed a reminder for later.

Somewhere along the passing time and the way it stopped every time Donghyuck gasped his name or arched into his touch, their positions had flipped. Mark doesn't complain—like this, his wolf is on full display, golden and grand and he rocks himself over Mark's arousal. Lifting himself barely, and landing himself in a way that makes his mouth drop open and his forehead fall onto Mark's shoulder as grinds into the sensation. He's enjoying himself, that much Mark can tell, and it's something more primal than dark that settles itself between every cold shard in his veins.

Donghyuck could always take care of himself, but there's something to be said about being the object for the care and pleasure of a being that offered you more than what you deserve.

He takes a handful of Donghyuck's hair, careful in the way his finger curl into the soft curls, a bit harsher in the way he pulls Donghyuck's head from his shoulder to make him face him as he takes Donghyuck's mouth in a searing kiss, the younger's hips moving a little more desperately with every roll of Mark's tongue against his, with every hard press of Mark's fingers into his flesh.

He's so soft, and yet he's so powerful, a fact so blindly excruciating that Mark's mind wants to blank with just how much the thought excites him. What a hell of a rush it is, to have such a creature in your lap whimpering for your affection, _begging_ to be taken all the way to the brink of self destruction, yellow eyes pooled with pleading tears as they look into Mark's own—a sunflower stuck in the rain.

"Am I beautiful? Do you like my colors?"

And, oh...

"You look like mine," Mark may be an artist, after all. "You look so good being mine."

++

It may not be be Heaven and Earth while Donghyuck's an angel bound by his nature to the earth and Mark's own praises powers from levels below that, but they connect somehow, and that's enough for Mark not to question the way he can feel all of Donghyuck like they've never been two separate being to begin with, but his mate still shies away when his teeth brush too close to the pulse in his wrist.

He can never read Mark's intent.

He still shivers when Mark relaxes his hands on his hips as he shakily brings himself down on Mark's cock.

It's cold, but Mark knows the small smile that stretches his lips before his bites down on the bottom one as he rotates in a circle, is proof that he's getting used to him in other ways.

How careful Donghyuck is still, though, his main conscious still remaining after so much time, after so much has been done, after Mark has tried to grasp and pull at the last strings that kept Donghyuck as Donghyuck and not...

Donghyuck is what Mark supposed a perfect example for an omega mate would be like. He wouldn't know, but there's little possibility that Donghyuck would lose in any such area.

He fucks up in shallow thrusts into Donghyuck's heat when it seemed to be too much for Donghyuck to keep up, his strength failing the hotter his body got, but still so much power in his hands as they curled into fists on Mark's chest as he rode Mark's pace like a good boy who took what he was given. Mark could watch just his face for hours, watch how his expressions morphed from discomfort to pleasure so many times in such short lengths of time; but watching himself be buried to the hilt when Donghyuck would lift his chin up too much to exhale moans of pleasure was good, too.

"I always thought heat was so much more intense." Mark says, not so quietly, his voice startling the quiet and Donghyuck breaks into a full out moan as Mark hits his prostate, joining him in breaking their serene scene. The slow world falls away to bring the real life colors of blues, browns, and greens. White and gold. "You seem so in control." Mark barely swallows something that tasted a little bitter before it laced his words.

He caught and held tight onto Donghyuck's yellow eyes when his head fell to look at Mark, sweat dropping off his forehead and the tip of his nose. Mark felt little droplets hit his cheek and temple.

"I'm t-trying, _fuck_ \--" Donghyuck moans again and Mark catches the exactly moment the wolf's spine loses it's steel and his boy collapses completely onto of him. Mark doesn't stop, he plants his feet and thrusts up into the same spot and feels more than sees this time the way Donghyuck shatters all over again, his full body shaking as his whimpers into Mark's shoulder, blunt teeth pulling at the fabric of Mark's shirt.

They never do this when Mark is naked—had been firmly warned against it, but mark doesn't think it matters. Not when it's always this intense on his end; Donghyuck's omega thrumming at the surface makes no difference in the way Mark wants to devour him. Not in the way he has just as much trouble making the black of his eyes stop pulsing with the need to bleed red as they look at every possible point in which to feed on vulnerable prey. Donghyuck is so vulnerable, no matter the form he takes in Mark's presence.

Because no matter what, the difference lies in who's more used to the other's dangers.

"I'm trying to stay here, for you," Donghyuck whispers against his neck, lips barely brushing his skin, breath hot and reminding. "I don't wanna overwhelm you, you're--" he pauses, swallowing. Considering. "You're not an alpha."

No, Mark is not.

Mark's hands grab onto Donghyuck's ass, squeezing, mock possessiveness, mocking a nature not his own and not quite Donghyuck's own either, and he turns his head ever slightly to make sure Donghyuck sees his eyes. Black and hooded. Cold, meaning unaffected, meaning normal. He smiles carefully.

"But is this okay?" His voice is softer, so finally the air carries it easily and he sees the way Donghyuck watches his breath travel it's centimeters of space before disappearing. "Even like this, I mean, are you enjoying yourself?"

Donghyuck's wide eyes are so innocent; something that doesn't exist churns inside his chest.

"I don't see how I could ever not with you, Mark,"

And his small sunflower blooms so prettily in his arms surrounded by a forest of too many trees, and yet still not enough spaces to hide his pretty petals that tear too easily in Mark's hold.

_Reflections upon yourself, you see yourself as so big from your limited perspective._

++

Like a gift, and a promise, Mark was immortal in the way he littered proof of himself across Donghyuck's body like a canvas. Donghyuck likes to tell him that they're not so different after all.

Mark thinks Donghyuck forces himself to think like that, likes asking the questions he knows he'll like the answer to. His father learned to love Mark the same way Donghyuck did, but it stopped at a certain point where Donghyuck's did not. Donghyuck's parents did him a favor by simplifying such a complicated problem, by not looking past the way Mark's eyes never moved in every limited way they could. Maybe it was pity, maybe it was the novelty of a parent's love for their child, he didn't know.

Though like that, maybe Mark is really no different, surrounded by everything that could burn—the bed, the walls, the trees, the brush lying dead on the forest floor... Mark has been dead for 189 years, but with his body pressed against Donghyuck, the heat from his impossible mate's body pooling into his own as it melts his crystal blood making it trickle inside his rod-like veins, it brings a sort of sensation and a longing for more in ways that makes him sure he has never felt more alive.

_+_

When Donghyuck comes, the brightness that focused on him comes back and so does Mark's hunger. There's more, there's so much more to be done, and Mark kisses Donghyuck's temple when the omega tries to remind him through clipped breaths that the orgasm will only hold him over for about an hour or so when he misunderstands Mark's meaning for growing silent.

The heat isn't what Mark meant, but he files this memory of Donghyuck in his reasons for proof. This boy... his boy, well.

Something about it now makes his iris's finally glow red, and Donghyuck looks at him in awe and wonder like he's discovering his own extraordinary piece of Mark for the first time all over again. There's fear too, because of course there is, even as he tries to push it under the surface and kiss Mark likes it's a seal on _his_ body that needs to keep it locked away. Maybe this is how he copes.

That's fine. Mark could wait; could wait for the moment the cold becomes a comfortable blanket for his mate, could wait for the moment his fire sits upon Mark's snow and isn't afraid of melting him or being snuffed out himself.

He could wait because Mark has the time between them, but he has has no doubt that with Donghyuck, in whatever form it may take, is where he will meet true oblivion.

And if nothing else, the flames will look pretty in the mist.

_Maybe in truth, you really are nothing but grand._


End file.
